


Respite

by Niko_Niko_Neek



Category: Corpse Party (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Post Game, Pre blood drive, Some angst, two kids sitting on the roof talking about life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 01:27:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21709099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Niko_Niko_Neek/pseuds/Niko_Niko_Neek
Summary: Yoshiki goes up to the roof to think. Ayumi comes up to the roof to stop thinking.
Relationships: Kishinuma Yoshiki/Shinozaki Ayumi
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	Respite

The city never seemed to sleep, and it continued to move and dance even as late as it was. The faint sound of pop music from passing cars and the echoes of the loudspeaker train announcement were clearly audible, wafting up to the roof where Yoshiki was currently sitting.

His legs were hanging over the edge, shoes set neatly beside him for fear that they would fall off of his feet and be totally lost. The neon lights from nearby shop signs and advertisements cast a strange purple-ish glow, making his hair and skin appear unnaturally shaded. This had become a favorite spot of his in recent weeks, probably because he hadn’t been sleeping well lately.

Yoshiki withdrew the cigarette from his mouth, a small cloud of smoke issuing up to join the rest of the fumes from the city. Up here, the roof of his apartment, was a good place to think and try and clear his head.

He’d spent the evening with a classmate of his, who was probably still asleep on the couch in his apartment. Ayumi hadn’t been planning on sleeping at his place, but neither of them had been very keen for her to go home. They’d spent a lot of the day with Satoshi and Naomi, taking long walks around the mall and talking. Yoshiki was grateful for the lot of them. It had been difficult for everybody in the days following their return to the world, and now the horror seemed to have dulled down to a throbbing ache-for him at least.

For Ayumi, it seemed like it still hurt just as much.

The excited chatter of a group of teenagers drifted up to where he sat, though he couldn’t tell what they were saying. The upbeat chatter, punctuated by shrieking laughter, reminded him faintly of some of the classmates who hadn’t made it back with the rest of them.

He shook his head, taking another inhale of his cigarette. The smoke burned going down in a way that helped erase the faint tingling that always seemed to be present in his limbs.

They all blamed themselves in one way or another. Nobody was free from any guilt. But Ayumi seemed to have taken the worst of it. He hadn’t seen her smile in nearly two weeks.

In a way, he was glad to know she wasn’t far. He was sure that, like him, she had nightmares.

And speaking of.

The small shuffle of someone moving on the roof behind him made Yoshiki turn around slightly. He must have been right about the nightmares-Ayumi looked compose, but there were details that he was good at picking up about her-tensed shoulders, a furrowed brow, shadows just beneath her eyes.

“....What are you doing up here?” she asked, her voice faint enough to suggest some fragility.

“Thinking,” Yoshiki replied, turning back to watch the blur of colors beneath his feet. He could hear her approaching, and was mildly surprised when Ayumi sat down a little ways next to him, her bare feet hanging off the edge of the rooftop. He’d assumed she’d be scared of heights but, though she did look a little uncomfortable, it didn’t seem to be enough to dissuade her.

“Bad dream?” He asked, and the nod is enough explanation. “I get them too.”

The ember on the end of his cigarette cast a bright glow across his face when he inhaled, careful to turn his head away from her when he exhaled.

“When did you start smoking those?”

“Hm?” Yoshiki looked down at the culprit resting between his two fingers. “A couple months ago, maybe. I don’t really like doing it, but I’m not smart enough to quit, I don’t think.”

Ayumi shivered a little, folding her arms tight across her chest. She was wearing a sweater, but Yoshiki doubted it was really enough to ward off the night air. 

“Here.” He tucked the cigarette in the corner of his mouth again, shrugging off his jacket.

“You’ll get cold,” Ayumi said, regarding him with some wariness, to which Yoshiki merely shook his head.

“Nah, I won’t.”

This assurance seemed to have quelled Ayumi’s protest for the time being. She accepted the jacket, draping the fabric over her shoulders, which seemed to relax a bit.

She seemed ten thousand miles away when she was sitting next to him, watching the traffic on the streets below as though trying to scrounge up some explanation for everything they’d experience. He’d been doing the same thing moments earlier. Now, left in his t-shirt with the hair on his arms starting to stand up, he wonders how to tell her that he hadn’t found one yet.

“Do you ever…” Ayumi frowns, her fingers tightening on his jacket. “Do you ever feel like driftwood?”

He looks at her. “Like what?”

“I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know where I’m going anymore. Hinoe, my sister, tries to get me to go out and do things, volunteer for things. I don’t feel anything. I just ...I get thrown around, wherever the current decides I have to go.”

Another time, Yoshiki might have teased her for being so poetic. Not tonight, though.

“I get that,” he said carefully. “I feel that way too, sometimes. There’ll be days where I swear I don’t feel a single thing, and then all of a sudden I’ll want to cry or throw things. It’s messed up.”

Even though his gaze remains on the streets, he can feel that she’s looking at him.

“....You should tell me,” Ayumi says finally. “When you feel like that.”

“I wouldn’t want to worry you,” Yoshiki, dismissive as usual when it comes to his own feelings, rubs the back of his neck. Beside him, Ayumi folds her arms and glares down at her feet.

“You always worry me, Kishinuma.”

It’s a sentiment he isn’t used to expecting. Yoshiki was nothing if not independent, having got along on his own since he was around thirteen or so. Their teacher made it a point to check in on him, which he’d truthfully resented up until recently. The attention had made him feel singled out.

This time, though, it makes sense. They’d seen each other almost die.

“I’m okay.”

She scoffs. “Now, I know that’s not true. If I’m not okay after all that, you’re definitely not.”

Yoshiki watches a bit of smoke trail from the end of his cigarette, which has shrunk down to a small nub. He crushes it on the sidewalk beside him.

“Maybe not, I guess.”

The nicotine fix seems to have quelled his headache, but he still feels dizzy from tiredness. But, up here, it’s a pleasant kind of dizziness, not scary enough that he’s worried about falling off the roof, but enough to make everything seem a little distant and far away. The only thing that doesn’t seem distant and far away is the girl sitting next to him.

A quiet sigh left Ayumi and, with no real words about it, she moves over and leans her cheek on his shoulder. There’s no other contact between them, really, aside from that. Yoshiki could feel himself go entirely still, as though any sudden movement might make the moment pop like a soap bubble. 

“I think we’ll get there, Yoshiki,” Ayumi says. Her voice is quiet, but he’d be able to hear her over any sort of traffic. “I think maybe we’ll be okay eventually.”

A small sigh left him and, rather cautiously, he reaches over to settle an arm around her shoulders.

“I think so, too.”


End file.
